Sunday, April 19, 2009

Funny. . . We were remembering. . .maybe not quite a week ago. . .about the little quirks of a year ago. . . his little phobias. . . and how chaotic it was to live through them . . . but funny to look back upon. . . Fear of the bathtub. . . outside (until Nan figured out it was the little metal dog outside the back door). . . the houseplants. . . the seatbelt (unaffectionately known as mud). And how he would just scream. . . . . in sheer terror. . . and we wouldn't know why or what to do for him. . . and how hard it was to figure out what exactly was scaring him. . . and then even harder to figure out how to help him deal with it. . .

But we lived through his little 2 and a half year quirks. . . and he did grow out of them. . .

Until last night.

We played outside all day long yesterday. It was such a beautiful day. 70ish. . . Sunshine. The dogs outside all day long. The boys outside all day long. Grilling delicious burgers and eating potato salad outside beside our little fire. Running in the yard. Playing at Zeli beach. Jack riding his bicycle. . . and then setting his Star Wars Clone Troopers up for attack in the fort in the backyard. Reading my book and listening to little boy laughter. Watching Sam journey into the woods and coming back with his arms loaded with more sticks for the fire.

Wonderful. Beautiful moments. Blissful. And our backyard was the happiest place on earth.

And I smiled that the boys would sleep the sleep of exhausted adventurers. . . deep and full of happy dreams. . .

Until we actually tried to put Luke to bed.

Earlier in the day he was very upset. He insisted there was a crab in his room. And that it was Going to get me. I have heard about the crab before. The crab in the potty. Where this comes from I have no idea. . . But he insisted there was a crab. And I assured him that crabs only live in the ocean (making sure not to mention the beach, so that our vacation in July is not overshadowed by crab phobias).

We walked up the steps and into his room. And he screamed! Pointing to the wall in the corner by the radiator. The crab? And all the noises. What's that noise? he insisted. Screaming. Crying. Pointing at the wall. Running out of his room and into the bathroom. It's going to get me.

I ran to get Sam. He found a spider on the wall that very much looked like a crab (imagine that). And he showed Luke how he got rid of it. And threw it away.

But it wasn't enough. He kept pointing to the corner. Insisting that something was going to get him. We cleared his dresser. We did the room tour with the flashlight to show him nothing was there. . . But he was beyond making sense. Purely hysterical.

Until we took him downstairs and let him fall asleep on the couch. Imaging a long night filled with screaming terror.

Carrying him quietly. . .oh so carefully to bed. . . and laying him down to rest. . . hoping it might last for a little while. . . and we did another room inspection.

If you put your ear to the wall in his corner of the room by the radiator, you can hear a faint humming. I remember hearing that humming a little loudly one day (before the boys came along). . . It happens to be where the electrical wires connect to the house outside. Right outside his room.

And my inner Jason and Grant (from the Ghosthunters) began monologuing about EMF readings. . . and how high readings can indue nasea, skin irritations, and paranoia (among other things I can't quite remember). . . And I wondered. . . .

So now what? We googled. . . and of course found frightening information about childhood leukemia and brain cancer associated with EMFs and those huge electric poles. . . But nothing we could really use. . .

My genius husband went for his compass, and we tried to do our own EMF readings. Walking across the room slowly, we watched the needle. . . and about two feet from the wall the needle swung quickly 180 degrees. . . Right in the spot where Luke plays with his trains all day long. . . where he sets up his little tracks on the floor. Where his little box of toys sits. ..

Now what?

So, this morning we rearranged his room. Moving his dressers and the rocking chair. . . creating a little barrier around the devil's corner. . . And putting his train table and toys on the opposite side of the room.

And he seems very happy in his new room. And much happier all around today. . . So I'm crossing my fingers that when I take him to bed in a few moments that our luck will hold. . . And the only thing coming to get him tonight is the sand man. . . carrying him into the land of sweet little boy dreams, filled with signs and trains. . .

love writing our names in white crayon. . .making sweet little pictures. . .and then watching them appear as if by magic after dipping them in color. . .

Lukey's Easter Egg Hunt at his school. . .

he hit his head against a table while retrieving his first egg. . .so the entire hunt was filled with unhappy, hurt tears. . .but loved how he only picked the blue eggs. . .his favorite little boy color. . .

and finally, Easter. . .

and discovering goodies left by the Easter Bunny. . .lovely candies and chocolates. . .

little family traditions and memories to cherish. . . So much fun to watch our little family grow and change each year. . .Never dreaming in our beginning married years that our family would have these special moments that we would be passing along to our boys. . . for their childhood memories. . . pure magic. . .

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

I was so upset because I thought that we missed it this year. Usually, we can find the dates in our little local paper, The Advisor. But, when they discontinued issuing it about 2 years ago (?), finding out the dates was a little harder. Last year, I happened to see a sign about it after I picked Jack up from Kindergarten. This year, (since he rides the bus) I didn't see any signs (since I really don't get into New Stanton that often). And when Saturday arrived, I was heartbroken.

I compromised by beginning to plan a little hunt in our own backyard for the boys (something I did with my sisters a couple years when I was older. . .).

However, a quick stop in New Stanton for breakfast, and we found that the egg hunt was scheduled for Sunday afternoon, and that we hadn't missed it after all. . .

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Alone in the white tiled room that stretches for miles. Voices are hollow, echoing hard off those empty walls. And yet the only sound is the clock that is melting, dripping longer on the wall, with a second hand ticking loud in your ears and moving backwards.

And [much to Sam's dismay] the world is black and white.

It is the place you live in when you wait for the phone to ring. . . the answers to come. . . or the blood to stop. . .

And if you could only find something to fill that quiet. . . that awful void. . . to keep your hands busy or stomach full or thoughts quiet. . . But feet pace from task to task finishing nothing. . . Touching this, moving that. . . only to find that the clock ticks louder and it is only five minutes earlier than the last time I checked. . .